An Interesting Find by Lucy Felthouse

Nathan and Lee are on a relaxing summer holiday in the UK. They plan to do lots of walking and exploring in the beautiful English countryside. Naturally, typical British weather derails their plans on their first day, leaving them cooped up indoors with little to do but read.

When the weather clears, the men eagerly put on their hiking boots and head out for a walk. However, when they reach their destination—a pond a little distance from their holiday cottage—they make a shocking discovery. An odd-looking bundle of rags turns out to be an unconscious man. With no one else around, and no mobile phone signal to call for help, they manage to get the stranger back to their cottage to get him warm and dry, and figure out what to do next.

When their unexpected house guest regains consciousness, however, things just get more complicated. The stranger—a British soldier called Jonny—doesn’t want the authorities to be notified of his presence. As the three men try to come to some agreement, the sexual tension in the air becomes apparent, and suddenly the last thing on any of their minds is leaving the cottage…

Closing his book with a very final slap, Nathan then put it on the coffee table in front of him. He leaned back in his chair. Stretching languidly, he said, “Bloody good, that was. Though, admittedly, I thought it’d last me all week. Wasn’t expecting to get through it on day one.”

Raising an eyebrow, Lee shot Nathan an amused glance. “Not far off myself. Fucking storm. Stupid us, eh, going on holiday in the UK in summertime—not like you can guarantee the sodding weather, is it? Should’ve gone to the Canaries.”

“No, we can’t guarantee the weather, but…” Nathan gave the window a sidelong glance, “I do have some good news.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The torrential downpour has stopped.”

“Seriously?” Lee slammed his own book closed and scurried over to the window. “Oh, wow, it’s cleared right up, and I can see a rainbow. Wanna head out? Just a little wander down to that pond we saw on the way here, maybe? Get some fresh air. We’ve got loads of daylight left, haven’t we?”

Nathan checked his watch. “Yeah, plenty. Especially if we’re only nipping to the pond. It’s probably only a fifteen-minute walk.”

Lee had disappeared into the hallway of their rented holiday cottage before Nathan had the chance to reply. Shaking his head with a smile, Nathan collected their empty mugs from the coffee table and took them into the kitchen, then got a bottle of water from the fridge. He doubted they’d need a drink during their short trek along the road, but he could just shove the bottle in his coat pocket and forget about it. At least it’d be there if they wanted it.

When he returned to the living room, Lee was just about to tie up his laces.

“I got water,” Nathan said, brandishing the bottle.

“Cool. Shoes are there.” He nodded to the chair Nathan had been sitting in. Sure enough, his trail shoes were waiting on the floor in front of it.

“Thanks.”

Within a few minutes, they were headed out of the door. Nathan locked up, pocketed the key, then checked the handle. He doubted very much the place would get broken into—they were in the middle of nowhere, after all. There were farms nearby, but the closest village was about a mile and a half away. So any thieves would have to make a considerable effort to get to the cottage in the first place, never mind attempt to break into it. Rolling his eyes at his own paranoia, he turned and followed Lee, who’d already started walking slowly along the road in the direction of the pond.

After falling into step beside Lee, Nathan pulled in some deep breaths, enjoying the fresh air after being cooped up in the cottage. It was a beautiful and cozy place, but it was supposed to be a base for them to go walking—somewhere for them to eat, sleep and shower, not to be stuck in for hours on end, staring at the walls. Or climbing them.

He admired the rainbow as they walked, its vivid colors painted across the watery sky. It seemed the clouds had literally exhausted themselves—only occasional wispy streaks of white now interrupted the never-ending blue. The sun beamed down, heating up the ground and beginning to evaporate the huge puddles. It would take some doing—one such puddle stretched across the width of the road, and they had to skirt around its edge to avoid getting wet feet.

Nathan smiled. Though the storm itself had been grim, the washed-out aftermath made everything feel fresh, clean somehow.

“Mmm. It’s one of those things that sounds better in your head than said out loud.”

“Try me.”

Shrugging, Nathan replied. “Nothing major. Just admiring the rainbow, the sky, the clouds… Thinking how everything looks so fresh and clean after a good storm. Like it’s been purified, or something… Ugh, it’s stupid.”

Lee stopped and reached for Nathan’s hand. His green eyes were wide and filled with wonder. “No, it isn’t. Not at all—I was thinking something similar myself. It’s kinda romantic, isn’t it? Purification, rebirth, and all that.”

“In a roundabout way, maybe. I dunno.” He shrugged again.

Lee’s eyes narrowed, and his lips curved into a wicked grin. “We could make it romantic.”

“How so?”

“Come here, and I’ll show you.” Still gripping Nathan’s hand, Lee tugged him close and moved in for a kiss. Nathan went into the embrace willingly, the smile on his face soon smothered by Lee’s hot lips.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one-eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

OWNED BY THE ALPHA ANTHOLOGIES

The Alpha lives for the hunt…Driven by instinct, an Alpha shifter recognizes his fated mate from onescent, one touch. He’ll pursue his mate, regardless of the cost, and anyoneelse would be smart to get out of his way. He won’t stop until he takespossession of his prize.

Although the hunter doesn’t need convincing, his mate certainly does. TheAlpha will have to prove himself as a lover and convince his mate that heplays for keeps.

The Furnace Man by Kera Faire

It might be a standing joke around the glass factory— he’ll mix you with the sand and burn you, leaving nothing left to discover—but Lindsey Earnshaw is about to find out the truth behind it.

Placed there to spy on the place on behalf of the government, a warning message brings forth not only a dead body, but also the one man she’s never forgotten.

Michael Hoult cannot believe his eyes, when his ex-wife turns out to be the receptionist on duty. Having to drug her in order to not blow his cover will not earn him her renewed submission, neither will whisking her away to the Death Isle.

Duty first, though. It cost him his marriage all those years ago, but with Lindsey now working for the same side, can they not only catch a killer, but also rediscover each other?Hi all, Raven chatting.

Hi all, Raven chatting.

It’s so lovely to be here and talking about The Furnace Man, the latest book by Kera Faire, my dark side.

I’m very lucky having two author sides of me, as I can indulge what I like doing best—creating stories with a happy ever after—in so many different ways. I just swap hats so to speak. It might not work for everyone, but it does for me.

This series, Dark Isle, is darker than my Raven stories. Mainly set around an island on Loch Lomond, in Scotland, The Furnace Man takes a bit of a new track, by starting in a glass works in Yorkshire. I just happened to go to the grand opening of a new furnace, and got chatting. The Furnace Man is the result.

Of course we end up on Dark Isle…also known aptly as Death Isle, an island in Loch Lomond, which is handy as it is not that far from where I live. Good excuse to procrastinate and well, enjoy the scenery. A flask of coffee, a g-f biscuit or three and my lap top. Perfect. Well I hope so.

The Furnace Man Teaser

“Nice now, safe word or suck me off.” He waited as she gulped and hesitated. She swayed towards him and straightened. Many people didn’t involve sex in their play; he and Lindsey always had and that was how he wanted it to be now. However, he remembered oral was something she’d never been keen on and eventually said it was a soft limit. It had never changed and nor had she gone down on him more than a few times, and never ever swallowed his cum. Not something he’d ever encountered before or indeed after Lindsey. She’d tried and after gagging and throwing up, had said swallowing was a big fat red no-no. He’d accepted it, but had missed that special closeness only being jerked off by your partner could bring. But Lindsey was his lady, his sub, he had loved her—still did—and her pleasure came first.

Perhaps it was unfair to throw her into this scenario so quickly, but he knew his pet. She could go round the houses for ever. He intended to show her he would not be fazed or upset by her limits whatever.

“Pet, you need to tell me where you are in this. Safe word.” He rapped his demands out. “Now.”

“Green to lick,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear. “I hope.” She took his cock in between her hands and delicately licked the head.

His pre-cum leaked fast and furious and she drew back and looked at it.

Typical. The one time I could do with it taking its time it comes like the clappers.

“It’s fine,” she said with awe in her voice. “Green.” She took more of his length in her mouth and began to nibble and suck.

He saw stars as the tug and pull became stronger. God almighty did she know the affect she was having on him? He was going to come if she didn’t slow down or pull back.

“Pet, enough, I’m about to shoot.” Michael tugged her hair, hard enough to make her release him. Or so he hoped.

“Lindsey. Pet, stop now.” Did he sound Dom-like enough? It was bloody hard when half of him would like no more than to fuck her mouth until he filled it with cum, and watched the excess run down her cheeks. But he didn’t truly want to. Not yet. Baby steps.

His command evidently got to her because she moved her mouth from his with a gentle plop. The confusion and hurt in her eyes hit him. “Pet, baby steps,” he said softly as he helped her to her feet. “I would happily fill your mouth and fuck it. But, not today. We have so much more to explore and hopefully have a lifetime to do everything in.” Would she understand without him getting too graphic? “I want to fuck your sweet pussy. Fill you that way. Relearn how you sigh and how well our bodies mesh. Make you scream as you come. Shudder and shake for me. Show you how much I love you, have never stopped loving you, and want this to be our happy ever after.”

Lindsey sighed and her eyes became misty. “Sir, My Michael, oh yes. I feel the same. You are mine. My lover, my friend and my Sir. I want it all as well.”

“First then.” Michael paused, tugged off her cardigan and threw it onto the floor. That’s better. Now…” He unzipped her jeans so he could run one finger around her pantie leg. “Firstly, I want you naked so I can spank your sweet ass until it’s the rosy color of that cushion over there.” He slid her panties and jeans down her legs and helped her step out of them. “I want to see my hand print and know that outline shows you are mine. Arms up.” Her t-shirt followed the cardigan. “Stand still, just like that with your arms up. Don’t lower them.”

Michael waited as she did as he demanded, grabbed her ass hard to keep her in place and lowered his lips to the lacy cups of her bra.

And sucked hard.

Lindsey bucked. “Oh grief oh my, oh hell…Oh god, Green bloody green.”

He took that as a good sign, let go of her nipples and ignored her moan as he blew on each hard nub in turn. Deftly he unclipped her bra and flung it in the direction of the rest of her clothes. Now he wished he’d taken her to the playroom. He knew no one was playing in it and he had a cupboard full of delicious things he could use on her. All still new and in their packets. Here, he’d have to be innovative and make do.

At least he had his hands. Michael unclenched his fingers and watched her pupils dilate as he smacked her ass a couple of times. “What color are clothes pegs?” he asked casually. “Specifically on your breasts, nipples and ass.”

“Then maybe we should start.” He pondered for a moment. “Here, I think.” He sat on the nearest chair and pulled her to lie over his lap, head to one side, legs to the other. “Color, pet?”

He could visualize her rolling her eyes at him for being so insistent. However she answered him readily, and politely. “Green, Sir.”

“Then, pet, count. Ten on each side and then I’m going to fuck your wet and willing pussy.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said fervently.

Michael laughed as he raised his hand. He hit her right buttock firmly and then rubbed away the sting as she gasped.

“O…One.”

“Good girl.” He repeated the actions on the other globe. By six on each side Lindsey was writhing and he opened his legs enough to reach between them and pinch her clit hard. “No coming or I’ll stop now.”

Fiery 10-16 by Lea Bronsen

Runo Wiggins is a scarred man, the wounds etched into his psyche deeper than those on his skin. But he loves his job: fighting fires helps reenact his survival of a house fire as a teen, one that killed his mother and brutal stepfather.

Dawn Caravello is married to a psychotic drunk. She can take his beatings as long as he doesn’t touch their children, and she’ll do anything to put food on the table, even if it means stealing from the town hero.

When Runo meets the fiery Dawn, sparks fly. But he suspects she is victim of the same abuse as his mother was. As day turns to night, the past and the present blend in an exhausting, nerve-wrecking chase to prevent another death.

Fiery 10-16 is a scorching firefighter story of desire, abuse, and bravery.

Links:

About Lea Bronsen:

I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and erotic dark/contemporary romance.

When Seamus discovers Kaila is in
danger he sets out to save her. He couldn’t care less that she doesn’t want him
there. His objective in life is to love and protect her. Besides, she might
refuse to be with him, but her body knows better. With both their lives on the
line, she can’t say no to his aid, can she?

For years, she has ignored her
feelings. Kaila’s mission was supposed to be easy: enter the demon’s lair and
save her sister. Then, he came along. For close to twenty years she has been
fighting against the mating pull. She has avoided Seamus at all costs, but now
they’re both trapped in hell and she has nowhere to run, except, maybe, into
his arms.

She didn’t acknowledge him, and he rushed to catch up with her. He grasped her wrist, spinning her around with force.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked.

Kaila’s gaze narrowed. Her lips pursed into an ugly grimace.

“Let go of me, Seamus. Why don’t you let this weak human die already?” She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

Seamus scrubbed a hand over his face. “What is wrong with you? You’re not making any sense. I know you didn’t ask for my help. I gave it freely, but you aren’t going to deny that we are different, are you?”

“Fuck you.”

Blinding rage took over him. Seamus dug his fingers into her arm. He was tired of all this nonsense. He pulled her closer. Her arm shot out to keep him away, but not fast enough. He swooped down and claimed her lips. She gasped, and he seized the chance to push his tongue into her warm recess. He groaned. She tasted better than he remembered. For a brief moment, she grappled with him, attempting to break lose, but he grabbed her arms with ease and held them behind her back.

He twisted his tongue around hers, drawing it out from its reluctance and forcing it to battle with his. Something in his chest tightened as she responded. Yes. He sucked and tugged and demanded more. She gave it to him. Her body arched against his, her mouth seeking his with almost as much desperation as he possessed. His hold on her
slackened.

He wanted to touch her everywhere. To press his lips to her body and taste every inch of her. His hand trailed to the curve of her ass, then to her waist. Then, bang! Her knee slammed against his leg. He released her, cursing. He’d probably be incapacitated for life if she’d hit her mark.

“Fuck you, Seamus.”

“Whenever you want, babe. I know you’ve got the hots for me, even if you just tried to castrate me and failed miserably.” He laughed.

Kaila spun and walked away from him again. She was probably not trying to be sultry, but her hips swayed in that way that drove a man to stare. She lifted her arm and gave him the finger. He grinned. She was pissed and sexy. He loved it.

Seamus took in a shaky breath. Watching her back on her feet, her spirit alive and surging, was soothing. He rubbed at the spot where she’d kneed him. It hurt, but it was proof that she was herself again, not lying in a puddle of blood, shredded to pieces by a monster. He glanced at the Dream Catcher’s skeleton out of the corner of his eye. He
hadn’t told Kaila the details of what he’d suffered inside the beast. The images of her dead body, broken, destroyed. He didn’t wish his worst enemy a fate like that.

He stretched his wings and snapped them back into place. Even they ached. He adjusted his now-flaccid cock and shuddered. He hurried after Kaila. The place appeared deserted. There were no scones in the wall giving off light. Instead, the walls themselves seemed to pulse with energy. They glowed from the inside as if behind them a relentless flame burned. He frowned. He extended his arm and placed his pinkie on the rock. It burned.

“Damn it.” He put the digit in his mouth, hoping to sooth the sting. “Don’t touch the walls, babe. They’re hot.”

Kaila didn’t reply, but she moved a little closer to the center of the path.

About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after. From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.

The
second novel in the emotionally compelling trilogy, Degrees of Separation—three
lost souls determined to find balance again…

December has vanished. Rejected by her troubled husband, Austin,
and pushed, at his insistence, into the arms of his best friend, Cord, she’s
uncertain what the future holds. She loves her husband, regardless of his
addiction, but she also loves his best friend. At odds with everything she
believed to be her traditional reality, she flees the only home she’s ever
known.

Heartbroken, Cord does the right thing and confronts his
reluctant betrayal of Austin after losing the woman they both love. He takes
charge, dragging Austin back from the edge of oblivion, only to find himself
plunged deeper into a life of heartache.

On a path to redemption, Austin must not only confront personal
truths, but consider the sacrifices necessary to save his marriage and his
friendship with Cord.

An unexpected reunion and exposed secrets will either derail or
establish their future as one.

WARNING: This book contains
subject matter suitable for mature reading audiences. Some content may be
offensive to sensitive readers. Degrees of Separation is a MMF ménage trilogy
with many emotionally graphic encounters and challenging situations that break
the rules of traditional romance.

Excerpt:

The second she was gone the asshole in the room spoke up.
“You’re wasting your time fighting it.”

His fork clattered to his plate. “What the fuck is wrong with
you? Stop shoving me at your wife!”

“I…I forgot the knife.” She quickly placed the dishes on the
table, her steps faltering, and fled to the kitchen.

“Great,” Cord snapped, bunching up his napkin and tossing it on
the table. “Enjoy your fucking cake. I’m out of here.”

Austin
opened his big mouth, but Cord was done talking to him. Reasoning with Austin
was like trying to discuss physics with a chimp. “Shut it, Austin.”

He detoured to the kitchen, unable to take his rage out on her.
“Ember, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” Her fingers twisted into a dishcloth and then she
dashed away a tear.

Fuck. Tears. Not tears! His concern shifted into panic. “It’s
not okay. I don’t know what Austin told you—”

“I know what he’s up to. I told him not to do this.”

She
fucking knew her husband was messing with him? It didn’t make any sense. “Why is he doing this?”

Now she shrugged. “He’s Austin. Once he gets something
in his head…”

Cord rubbed his palm over his face and squeezed. “What does he
expect to gain from this? He’s just making an uncomfortable situation worse.”

“He’s trying to fix it. He doesn’t understand, because he wasn’t
there. He thinks if we put everything out in the open the guilt will go away.
He thinks it’s best to deal with it.”

“Deal with it how?” He wasn’t a fucking puppet Austin could
place in whatever position he wanted.

“I don’t know. I barely understand what I’m feeling right now. I
can’t pretend to understand what he’s going through. Or you, for that matter.”

All
thoughts of her husband vanished as he focused on the ‘f’ word, for his sins.
“What are you feeling?”

Her face tightened and her hand pressed into her chest, her eyes
betraying her show of bravado. “Here. It hurts. I don’t know how to make it
stop, Cord.”

“Hurts how?” He took a slow step closer, keeping his voice low.

Eyes pleading, she looked up at him, her mouth tight with worry.
“When I’m near you, my heart beats so fast I’m afraid it’ll explode. But I know
I can’t… I can’t express what’s inside of me. Then this unbearable ache takes
hold. It just…hurts.”

Lydia Michaels is the award winning author of 30 romance novels.
Her novels from the darkly compelling Surrender Trilogy were iBooks
Bestsellers and her work has been featured in USA Today. In 2015 she was
the winner of The Best of Bucks Award and she has been nominated as Best Author
in the Happenings Magazine two years running [2015 & 2016]. She is a four
time nominee for the prestigious RONE Award. Her books are
intellectual, emotional, haunting, always centered around love.

Allyson
Young

Allyson lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada with her
husband of many years and numerous pets. She has written for many years and
after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at
penning one. A bestselling Amazon author, she has now published three series
and several stand alones in contemporary, sci fi, fantasy and suspense
genres. Allyson will write until whatever is inside is satisfied, until
the heroes man up and the heroines get what they deserves. Love isn’t always
sweet, and Allyson favours the darker side of romance.

The Night Gardener by E.D.Parr #MMromance new release from Evernight Publishing

Architect, Dane Lovell takes an off-season vacation in an old New England mansion, hoping to ease his broken heart, and spark his imagination. Impressed by the pretty gardens, he’s surprised by the sinister atmosphere of the river that winds through the estate. Dane settles down to his vacation and tries to immerse himself in his drawings. One night, the sound of the back door smashing open in the wind and rain shocks Dane from his work.

Spooky, gorgeous, and enigmatic Zachary Yarrow has brought logs for the fire.

He’s the estate gardener and brings with him not just passion and a love affair for Dane, but a strange, spine-tingling mystery.

Who is Zachary, and what will happen when Dane finds out?

From the author

Inspired by some wild countryside, and a rushing river that stormed under a bridge so loudly, I couldn’t hear what a friend said to me, for me this story is as much about nature as love. I’ve always believed there are more things in the elegant stream of life than we know about, and this story is about a young man who loves life so much he finds a way to live it. There are some heartstring tugs in this story, and some hot love scenes, because this is a love story. It’s a journey for both characters, Dane and Zachary to deep, lasting love.

Read an excerpt 18+

The gardener slotted his logs into the spaces between other logs already in the nook bricked into the side of the fireplace. “Zachary Yarrow.”

Dane folded his arms over his body, wishing he’d thought to close the door as chilling air swept along the hall and into the room. “Dane Lovell.”

Zachary stood, having completed his task. “You’re here off season. I guess you know. I always do the gardens off-season—have done for the last—well, for years. When I’m here, I usually stay in this cottage. I guess I need to find somewhere else this time.”

Cold, Dane accepted the information with a nod. “I need to close the door, Mr. Yarrow.” He returned to the back door and closed it up.

Zachary Yarrow had followed. “You can call me Zachary.”

Dane hung around near the back door. The gardener showed no signs of leaving and Dane didn’t know how to be rude enough just to ask him to go.

Dane closed his eyes to dissipate the surprise Zachary’s silent approach gave him. He edged around to face Zachary, who stood so close Dane’s composure flew clean away as his whole body reacted to the proximity of this complete hunk.

Holy hell, he is completely gorgeous. Dane stepped sideways and picked up a mug. He handed it to Zachary. “Coffee, er, sorry, its instant. I’ve given myself a vacation from grounds and filters.” He smiled apologetically.

Zachary studied him for a few seconds.

Dane had the distinct feeling Zachary knew exactly what he was thinking.

Claiming His Human by Doris O’Connor

Darius knows Holly is his from the first whiff of her scent in the air. Holly needs some convincing… especially when she finds out that the man she’s been lusting after turns into a huge grizzly bear.

Thank you so much for hosting my new release on your blog today. J

Claiming his Human is book 6 in The Projects series, and readers will meet many a familiar face from the previous books.

Don’t worry, though, you do not have to read the previous books in the series, unless you’d like to, of course.*smiles*

*smiles*

Book Blurb:

Shifters defend their mates to the death…

Bear shifter Darius Longton never expected to find his mate in his favorite coffee shop, but one sniff of her scent in the air is all it takes for his bear to know the truth. This delicious, sinfully curvy redhead is his.

Too bad she’s human and far too fragile for his volatile bear.

Holly Trent cannot understand the instant attraction she feels for this man. One look from his heavy-lidded eyes is all it takes to set her knickers aflame with lust. However, she will not be another notch on his bedpost, no matter how much his voice alone makes her want to sink to her knees.

But when a customer gets heavy with her, everything changes. Darius’s defense of her places them both in terrible danger. Thrown headfirst into shifter council politics, it falls to Holly to save her mate.

Darius’s eyes flashed from golden to brown and back again, and she lost herself in the intensity of his gaze.

“Holly, what are you doing?” he asked. The gravelly timbre of his voice shot straight to every one of her erogenous zones, not least because his scent increased and wrapped her into a cocoon of his earthy, spicy presence.

“I don’t know. I just want … please … I need.”

A hiss escaped him when she lowered herself back down on his lap and ground her by now sodden crotch over his cock.

Another one of those earth-shattering deep rumbles came from the man she was dry humping like some sort of wanton hussy, and in the next instant, his large fingers dug into her hips with enough force to leave bruises. Shivers of apprehension, or excitement, she wasn’t sure which raced down her spine.

Darius lowered his head so that their foreheads touched. Their breaths mingled, and the world stood still, as she waited for him to move, to do something, anything.

She couldn’t get her voice to work past the huge lump of emotion which clogged up her throat, so she simply breached the distance between them and pressed her lips against his. His groan rumbled through her, and then he took charge of the kiss. Just like before, their surroundings faded into the background, as he deepened the kiss, and she gave herself up to the myriad of sensations that immediately assaulted her. With his hands firmly clamped around her hips, she couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but tug at the strands of his hair which had come loose from his ponytail. The action seemed to incite his bear, because he broke the kiss, and ran his nose along her neck, inhaling deeply.

“Fuck, Holly, you better be sure, because all I want to do is push those panties away and bury myself deep inside your sweet cunt until you have no doubt who you belong to.”

He yanked her up slightly while he traced one hand along her hip until he could cup her pussy.

“So fucking wet for me, little one.”

Incapable of uttering anything but incoherent moans, Holly rubbed herself against that hand.

“Oh, yeah, I can smell your need. Tell me this pussy is mine. Ask me for my cock. I need to hear you say the words, my sweet.”

His voice, full of heated promise, didn’t sound like him at all, more animal than human, and she responded to the almost desperate tones in kind.

“Just fuck me already, will you?”

A sharp tug on her hair brought tears to her eyes, and she whined her disappointment when he pulled back to study her. Try as she might she couldn’t close the distance between them.

“Ask me nicely, girl, or I’ll stop this instant.”

Holly’s flippant reply stuck in her throat when she properly looked at him because the determination edged in his hungry features told their own story. He meant what he’d said, and despite the massive erection tenting his suit trousers, which must cost him dearly, he would get up and leave her wanting. His thighs flexed under hers, and Holly swallowed hard when he released his grip on her hair and grasped her wrists instead. She was no match for his superior strength, even if she had tried to resist him, as he slowly pulled her hands away from him, and pinned them behind her back. The action thrust her breasts out at him, and her breathing sped up when his gaze slowly dipped lower until it rested on her straining cleavage. Her nipples pushed against the fabric of her lacy bra, hard little beacons of lust pointing straight at Darius, positively begging for his attention. Darius transferred both her wrists into one of his large hands and then slowly brought his free hand into view. His knuckles skimmed across the hypersensitive tips of her nipples, and Holly whimpered her need.

A wicked grin flashed across his features, and he repeated the action several times until Holly was pretty sure she would self-combust if he didn’t do something else. Incomprehensible sounds spilled from her lips, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight of his large, tanned hand against her pale flesh.

“Hmm, so beautifully responsive, my sweet. I bet you could come from this alone.”

Holly gasped in fascination as one of his fingernails formed into a wicked-looking claw, and he used that lethally sharp appendage to run ever tightening circles around first one nipple and then the other until Holly thought she would scream. When he added another claw to lightly score her skin the pleasure pain acted like a livewire of electricity connected her clit to her boobs.

Her hips took on a life of their own, and her pussy muscles clenched and released desperate for his cock to fill her.

“Please, I need to … please, Sir, I want your cock.”

The words were out of her mouth before her brain had even cottoned on to what she was saying. Darius stilled, his eyes flashed fire at her, and for the first time since she’d initiated this, a trickle of fear snaked up her spine. Not enough for her to put a stop to this, whatever this insanity which seemed to hold her in its grip would amount to, but enough to make her already far too fast heartbeat turn into a sledgehammer inside her chest.

Her vision dimmed, and all reasoning fled her brain in a puff of smoke because Darius looked more animal than human. He looked as though he wanted to eat her alive, and before she could even fathom his intention, her hands were free. The audible rip of her knickers giving way, as he tore them off her sounded far too loud in the quiet room, and then his fingers slipped inside her pussy and she groaned in need. Her head fell forward on his shoulders, even as she instinctively spread her thighs wider apart to give his questing digits better access.

“You’re so fucking wet, my sweet. Come for me, baby.”

About Doris

Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroineswho give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, TimeTravel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories areguaranteed.

Happily married forthe last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of ninein a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.

For years, Blake the Snake, as he was known to his Alpha Chi Gamma brothers, took pictures of the conquests of auction winners having sex with their “prizes” at the fraternity’s annual Spring Bacchanalia. It was all in fun, until he stopped a young woman from being raped by the football player who had won her.

From that moment on, Blake Bombay’s life changed forever. He became obsessed with Kendra Kensington, and worked tirelessly to keep her safe. While watching her from afar, he plotted and planned for the day when she would be his. Trouble was, she didn’t know it. She never saw his face that night or learned his name. But that didn’t matter to Blake. She was his. She had always been his, and one day she would be his forever.

EXCERPT

“Oh, wait. What have we here?” He turned her around so her back faced him, and brushed his hand across her soaking wet slit. “Oh, Kendra…”

There was no answer. She couldn’t even moan. She was lost in the heady sensations once more of his hands on her, caressing her in exactly the right way to bring an orgasm close. He played with her clit, teasing it until Kendra’s moans grew loud, and she pushed back against him, wanting more.

When he lifted her skirt, he brushed his hand over her ass cheeks, alternating them. “You really do have a beautiful ass.”

“Thank you.” She was out of her mind with need. Nothing existed except his touch on her skin.

The swats on her ass were light at first, but Kendra had to hang onto him once he began. She’d never been so turned on in her life. Her clit contracted in tiny spasms as the strikes grew harder, burning now each time he hit her. But at the same time, Kendra didn’t want him to stop. Her climax inched closer when she flexed her Kegel muscles, sending shockwaves of desire racing through her groin and out to her fingers and toes.

“Let’s see how much you like this.” He brushed his fingers over her labia. “Oh, wow. I’d say a lot.”

The giggles turned to moans when he pushed two fingers into her pussy. Blake kissed her neck as he finger-fucked her, his thumb now rubbing her clit in time to his thrusts. She clutched his arm for support as a crazy orgasm began, and when he realized what was happening, he bent her over the table until her she rested face down on the surface. Her torso was supported, but her ass was bare.

“Please don’t stop, Blake.”

“I won’t, sweetheart.” He continued moving his fingers in out of her until the climax finished. She was so wet, Kendra heard slurping sounds when he finally removed his digits from inside her pussy.

“Oh, fuck.” Blake spanked her a few more times on each cheek, harder this time, before she heard the sound of a zipper. “I can’t wait, Kendra. I’ve never done anything so fucking sexy in my life.”

The tip of his dick rubbed her ass cheeks, and Kendra was certain she’d go out of her mind long before he got it inside her. He ran one finger along the crack of her ass.

“I’m going to fuck you right here, on this table. What do you think about that?”

“Yes. Please!”

“Oh, Kendra…” He grasped her right hip and slid his cock into her pussy, groaning loudly. Kendra cried out in pleasure as he slammed into her. His thrusts were quick and powerful, and she loved it. Being taken like this, still fully clothed and bent over the dining room table, was the kinkiest thing she’d ever done.

While David Bowie sang about his China girl, Blake fucked her like a runaway train. When he massaged her clit again, another climax tore through her, making her dizzy with its intensity.

A perfect society hiding a terrible secret. An innocent man condemned to cyborg slavery. A brilliant woman determined to set him free.

Freelance tech Evie Contreras belongs to the Employee class of the Pacifica Protectorate, the “perfect society” that rose from the ruins of the West Coast. But Evie knows about Pacifica’s festering core and the secrets that keep it in power. And when she discovers that Pacifica has turned her fiancé Ben into a cyborg slave, she will risk everything to rescue him.

Saving Ben is the first step in a deadly game between Pacifica and a shadowy resistance group known as Rubicon. In return for Rubicon’s help, Evie must retrieve a hidden artificial intelligence that may hold the key to protecting Earth from a deadly new disaster.

Reviews

“Beautiful, fluid with whipsmart technology, and good to the core. Nicola M. Cameron has given us a fast-paced, heart-tugging cyber-romance that I couldn’t stop reading. A deeply satisfying book for fans of cyberpunk, science fiction, and romance alike.”– Cecilia Tan, RT Award-winning author of Slow Surrender

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Excerpt

“Let me see you, Ben.”

Without a word he loosened the knot in the towel and let it fall.

He reminded her of a da Vinci nude she’d once seen, every muscle developed without unnecessary bulk and giving the impression of restrained power. His chest was the same from her memories at the pool, beautifully shaped pads of pectoral muscle and shoulders ending in curved deltoids that she wanted to grip. The same light scattering of blond chest hair narrowed to a trail that led down over trim abs to his navel and beyond.

His legs were those of a runner, lean muscle and tendon rising in powerful mounds at the backs of his calves, along the length of his thighs. The hair covering them was sparser, only slightly darker than the hair on his chest, and curled against his indoor-pale skin.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at his groin. The hair darkened here, turning sandy brown and curling in a springy nest around a well-shaped cock, neatly circumcised. It had thickened a little, judging from the way it stood out from his body, but wasn’t anywhere near full erection yet.

He laughed softly. “You should see your face. You look like all your birthdays and Christmases came at once.”

“I think they just did.” There were no scars, no signs that any part of his body was artificial. “You’re perfect.”

He glanced down at himself. “I think you may be a little biased, but thank you.” His pupils expanded, compressing all the light blue into a thin ring around each black pool. “Besides, you’re the one who’s perfect.”

He came to her and knelt, gently urging her knees apart so that he could move closer. Her heart raced as he loosened the belt on her robe, letting it fall to each side. The terrycloth gaped open, putting her on display the same way he’d done for her.

He didn’t say anything for a minute as he drank her in. The nervousness she’d felt earlier was gone, banished by the naked worship in his eyes. “You’re everything I ever wanted.” His voice was husky. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

She fought back the sudden urge to cry from sheer relief. “Kiss me. Please.”

He did, his chest pressing against her breasts as he slid the robe down her arms, his mouth devouring hers. She surrendered to the delicious sensation, every brush and teasing press lighting up her nerve endings like wildfire. When his tongue trailed along the soft inner flesh of her lips she opened them, welcoming him in. Between her thighs an echoing heat began to build.

It was the night in the front seat of the GoCar all over again, but this time they didn’t have to stop. And it was much better than the evening in the park hotel because now he knew who she was, who he was.

His tongue danced around hers before breaking away to lick at the roof of her mouth. A shocking pulse of pure sensation ran through her body and she moaned into his mouth.

She broke away for a necessary breath and heard him chuckle. “Okay, so I like that,” she muttered, amused by his smugness.

“Good. I like making you moan, baby. Plan on doing a lot of it, to be honest.”

About Nicola Cameron

Nicola Cameron is a married woman of a certain age who really likes writing about science fiction, fantasy, and sex. When not writing about those things, she likes to make Stuff™. And she may be rather fond of absinthe.

While possessing a healthy interest in sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that she decided to write about it. The skills picked up during her SF writing career transferred quite nicely to speculative romance. Her To Be Written work queue currently stands at around nineteen books, and her mojito-sodden Muse swans in from Bali every so often to add to the list, cackling to herself all the while.

Nicola plans to continue writing until she drops dead over her keyboard or makes enough money to buy a private island and hire Rory McCann as her personal trainer/masseur, whichever comes first.

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